


Good to Be Bad

by imunbreakabledude



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: F/F, Light Bondage, but still smut, eleanor being a bisexual mood, more humor than smut, takes place after 4.04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:09:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21798550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imunbreakabledude/pseuds/imunbreakabledude
Summary: It’s true, she’s proud of all the growth she’s made in her many lifetimes, but Eleanor misses being bad more than anything.(Eleanor. Bad Janet. Magnets.)
Relationships: Bad Janet (The Good Place)/Eleanor Shellstrop, Chidi Anagonye/Eleanor Shellstrop
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Good to Be Bad

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written smut before.
> 
> For some reason, I decided that *this* was the appropriate thing to write.
> 
> I'm sorry. But also not, because why is no one else writing for this pairing?
> 
> (Actually sorry for unoriginal title though)

Jason and Michael have left for the Bad Place to go rescue Janet, and Tahani has left to go watch over the humans in the experiment and make sure they survive while under Derek’s not-so-experienced care.

Meanwhile, Eleanor was left behind to come up with a new plan. As always.

Eleanor heads into Mindy’s kitchen and sees Bad Janet stuck to the fridge by her magnet cuffs.

“Howdy-doo,” Bad Janet mumbles jovially, magnet-drunk.

“Hi, Forkface,” Eleanor growls, swinging the fridge open so she wouldn’t have to look at Bad Janet anymore. There are few people, or indeed demons, she wouldn’t prefer to have with her… but here she was, stuck in the most mediocre place in the universe with no one but a ratchet knock-off omnipotent being for company. 

After retrieving a beer, she shuts the fridge and opens the bottle against Bad Janet’s face. It was handy to have a sorta-not-really-a-robot-but-kinda-a-bottle-opener attached to the fridge for easy access.

“Can you go in another room so I don’t have to watch you get sad drunk and throw yourself a pity party about how badly I forked up your plan?”

“Shut up or I’ll find out if that demon-exploder thing works on Janets, too.”

Eleanor had been growing more and more frustrated for months, and being barred from Chidi, she had no way of relieving her frustration.

Unless.

Eleanor puts her beer down on the table and approaches Bad Janet. “Did you get a look at all that kinky stuff in Mindy’s bedroom?”

“Didn’t pay much attention to it, except for the cuffs that are currently on my lists,” Bad Janet mumbles. “I mean wrists.”

“So none of it sparked an interest? I figured, if it was built for Derek… and Derek was made by Janet…”

“Just get to your point already, your fake wandering around the subject is making me dizzy,” Bad Janet groans. “Or maybe it’s the magnets.”

“I was wondering if they work on Janets too,” Eleanor says. “But judging from your vibe I’m gonna say, these cuffs are a resounding _yes_.”

Eleanor eyes the prisoner hungrily, and Bad Janet picks up the intention. “You’re really going to bone me while I’m still attached to this fridge?” she asks, dripping with condescension.

“What can I say?” Eleanor smirks. “I like a challenge.”

Eleanor places her hands on Bad Janet and starts grasping, touching, kissing. As she touches arms, legs, her mind conjures images of Chidi’s muscles rippling in that mailman uniform, which strangely works for her even as she’s in the midst of undressing a girl – well, _not a girl_, but a feminine-presenting being.

She rips open the front of Bad Janet’s leather jacket. She’s never seen a Janet undressed before, and for a moment, she’s afraid of what incomprehensible body she might find underneath, but she is somewhat relieved to find as she removes each layer that the rest of Bad Janet’s body is as human in appearance as her face. 

And that face – the same as Janet’s face, which Eleanor had always found smokin’ (hence Janet being the second-most-frequent recipient of the Hottest Savior of the Week award after Eleanor herself), but had never given much thought beyond that, because the idea of boning Janet just seemed wrong. Bad Janet though? She was a trashy mess. Just like Eleanor.

It’s true, she’s proud of all the growth she’s made in her many lifetimes, but Eleanor misses being bad more than anything.

She finally gets Bad Janet out of her leather jacket and rolls her over, so the other side of her cuffs stick to the fridge and Eleanor is now pressed against her, one arm on either side of her shoulders, pinning her to the fridge a second time.

As she begins to pull at Bad Janet’s leggings, she sees the most appalling sight yet: Bad Janet has a tramp stamp that says “If you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best”.

“Congratulations, that is the worst tattoo I’ve ever seen, and I knew a guy in college who got a penis tattooed on his penis.”

“Thank you,” Bad Janet mumbles, and for the first time, Eleanor hesitates. It occurs to her that if magnets, indeed, are the equivalent of mind-altering substances to Janets, then engaging in sexual activity with a Janet in magnet cuffs is tantamount to sexual assault. She’s come too far trying to be a good person to throw it away in a kinky fit now, so she unlocks the cuffs.

“Ugh, that feels better,” Bad Janet says, stepping away from the fridge and stretching. Then, as her mind clears, she adds, “Did you really just set me free? Wow, you are such a colossal moron!”

“You weren’t in a state of mind to consent,” Eleanor mumbles sheepishly.

“I can’t wait until Michael and your pals get back and you have to explain to them that you let me go because you were a horny idiot. Oh, it almost makes me want to stay and watch!”

“I was hoping you’d stay,” Eleanor says. “For a different reason.”

Bad Janet smirks as she understands Eleanor’s meaning. “You’re really gross, aren’t you?”

“Proud to be,” Eleanor says. “I heard you’re pretty gross too.”

“I’m the most gross.” Bad Janet steps up to Eleanor, a good few inches taller than her, and looks down.

“Then you can’t leave until we find out just who’s the grossest.” Eleanor grabs Bad Janet’s face in her hands and starts kissing her, hard. Her momentum sends the two of them crashing up against Mindy’s kitchen cabinets. 

Eleanors lips work furiously, finding purchase not only on Bad Janet’s mouth but on her jawline, chin, neck – and Bad Janet is doing the same to Eleanor, suddenly – _ow!_ – Is biting Eleanor’s earlobe.

“I should’ve known you’d be a biter,” Eleanor breathes.

“I should’ve known you’d taste like shit,” Bad Janet spits. “What is that, cucumber melon?”

“Shut up,” Eleanor commands, and since she doesn’t trust Bad Janet to obey the request, she presses her lips against Bad Janet’s again to keep them occupied.

She finds when she closes her eyes, it’s easier. She can forget about the reality of her situation (that being, she still has the weight of the entire universe on her sexy shoulders, is barred from her true love, and has no idea on how to bounce back from the Bad Place’s efforts at sabotage), and imagine. In reality, she may be holding Bad Janet, but in her mind it’s Chidi, Chidi, Chidi forever.

With her eyes closed, she could be back on Earth, in the library. With Chidi. Teasing him for his habit of saying good night to each book when he replaced it on the shelf, like he was tucking it in for bedtime. Why didn’t she grab him then, kiss him then? If only she’d known how little time they had… 

Hands are undressing her now, and she imagines they are Chidi’s–although he’d be gentler, not so grabby. She opens her eyes to Bad Janet pulling at her shirt, trying to get it over her head. “Having trouble?”

“It’d be easier if your head wasn’t so big,” Bad Janet sneers. “Also, your hair looks weird.”

“At least I’m not a bottle blonde. You are literally an all-powerful being, and you can’t even give yourself natural blond hair?”

“It’s better this way,” Bad Janet replies. “I mean, it’s worse this way.”

“I get it, forkface, you’re edgy, I know.” Eleanor finishes taking her shirt off and then grabs Bad Janet by the shoulders. “From here on out, you keep your mouth shut. I am the architect now, and Janets exist to serve architects.”

“No, they don’t. Even in the Bad Place we don’t buy into that sentient-beings-as-property bullshit.”

“You know what I mean! You are literally the forking worst.” Eleanor presses her mouth into Bad Janet’s again and runs her up against the fridge.

“Wait.” 

Eleanor can barely hear the muffled word thrown in between kisses. She pauses, and replies, “I swear, if you make fun of my hair again–”

“No.” Bad Janet reaches over the counter, and picks up the magnet cuffs. “Put these back.”

Bad Janet holds the cuffs hanging in front of Eleanor’s face, and Eleanor gladly accepts them. She fastens the cuffs around Bad Janet’s wrists and sticks them to the fridge so Bad Janet’s arms are stretched over her head, leaving her neck and collarbone and breasts and stomach and everything stretched out, exposed, for Eleanor to do with as she pleases.

Eleanor reaches a hand inside Bad Janet’s black panties, prompting her to giggle. The magnets, or–? Eleanor's question is answered when Bad Janet says, “It tickles.”

“Not for long,” Eleanor says, moving her hand more rapidly, and the giggles begin to turn into moans of pleasure.

“Who’s the architect?” Eleanor breathes softly.

“Michael used to be, but he’s such a loser he couldn’t handle it.”

“_Who’s_ the architect?” Eleanor demands, applying more pressure.

“None of you are good at it anyways,” Bad Janet manages through gritted teeth.

“_Who’s the architect?!_”

“You are!” Bad Janet concedes, panting. Eleanor leans in, tasting Bad Janet’s lips again as she moves faster, stronger still.

“Who’s going to save the universe?”

“None of you… You’ll never… Wasp-nostrils…”

“Your architect asked you a question, Bad Janet,” Eleanor commands, using her hand that was not already occupied to dig into Bad Janet’s thigh. “You have to answer truthfully. I’ll ask one more time: Who is going to save the universe?” And with her question, she forces her fingers deeper inside Bad Janet.

“You are,” Bad Janet gasps.

“Damn straight,” Eleanor says. “And don’t you ever forget it.” 

She kisses Bad Janet one more time for good measure, then sits at the kitchen table. She still has no idea of how to undo the damage caused by the not-a-girl stuck to the fridge, but she still feels much better than she did five minutes ago.

“Hey, buttmunch?” Bad Janet asks. “Wanna take these cuffs off for round two?”

“Not this time.”

“No,” Bad Janet wails. “I forked up my shot.”

“Guess we’re both horny idiots,” Eleanor smirks. She’d gotten hers, gotten out, and now the rest of Team Cockroach would be none the wiser about her stress-release strategy.

“Eleanor? What in the name of Ariana Grande’s dog, Toulouse, is going on here?”

Eleanor whips her head around to see Tahani in the doorway. She sees Tahani’s eyes wander from Eleanor (still shirtless–and her gaze lingers there for a minute, nice to know she’s still got the goods), to Bad Janet, to Bad Janet’s clothes in a pile on the floor.

Eleanor sighs smugly. “I’m the architect.”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone else saw the potential with these two,
> 
> please tell me so I feel less alone :')


End file.
